


Mech-Head

by mitslits



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Android AU, Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 13:01:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5049580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitslits/pseuds/mitslits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Unified Neurological Wire Integration Network (UNWIN, for short, but you can call it Eggsy) is a state-of-the-art android equipped with the latest in artificial intelligence. And Harry Hart is stuck being its babysitter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mech-Head

**Author's Note:**

> Based off a headcanon by daddy-firth.tumblr.com. I normally don't like android AUs, but it just wouldn't leave my head and I had a plot half-formed before I knew it. So I figured why not? 
> 
> No beta, as usual.

((Unsentpromises' sequel [Grey Matter](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5115293/chapters/11768216)))

“Absolutely not.”

“Harry-"

“No. I am not a babysitter, Merlin,” Harry says firmly, his tone indicating no give whatsoever.

Merlin squeezes his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose and smudging his glasses in the process. “Observing and interacting with the first hyper-intelligent, autonomous, fully functioning android equipped with the most advanced artificial intelligence to date is hardly babysitting, Galahad.”

Resisting the urge to scoff (and the equally tempting urge to roll his eyes), Harry just folds his arms over his chest. “There are several other agents who are equally suitable for such a job,” he points out.

“You’re the only one who’s completely severed familial ties,” Merlin sighs. “We don’t want the android interacting with any civilians until it’s been thoroughly tested. There’s no chance of that happening with you. No offense,” he adds wryly, lips quirking up slightly at one corner.

If looks could kill, Harry thinks briefly, glaring daggers at the magician. “You can at least tell me exactly what it entails,” he says after a moment, every word dragged out of him reluctantly.

It’s not much of a foothold but Merlin latches onto it eagerly nonetheless. “The whole thing is relatively simple. The android will be programmed to suit your basic needs with the tasks it’s meant to complete getting increasingly more complex every other week. Once we’ve ascertained if it can handle things such as housework, we’ll broaden the scope, start sending it as backup on your missions. And from there,” Merlin shrugs, “we’ll see.”

“I don’t see where I fit into this,” Harry mutters.

“You’re going to be our eyes and ears. I’ll review the feed from your glasses daily and every two weeks you’ll provide our tech department with a more comprehensive report about its capabilities and anything that might have gone wrong. As I said. Simple.” Merlin turns to the monitor mounted on the wall, a few swipes to his clipboard bringing up the image of what looks suspiciously like a sleeping young man.

Harry has to admit, his interest is piqued. The android, at least, he suspects it’s the android, looks startlingly human, almost indistinguishable from either himself or Merlin.

Even with as much practice as the agent has had in schooling his features into a carefully blank, disinterested mask, Merlin can tell he’s got him. He reaches up to activate his comm system, instantly connecting to the tech department. “Yes, Delilah? Activate the android.”

There’s a brief moment where nothing happens and all Harry can hear is the tapping of a keyboard in the background. Then the camera zooms out so he can see the android in its entirety and its eyes blink open. Slowly, fluidly, it sits up, glancing around as if to take stock of its environment.

It’s all slightly unsettling to Harry. He knows, _knows_ , the thing is all wires and circuitry but the way it looks, the way it moves… One could be suitably fooled if one didn’t know what they were looking at. Clearing his throat and crossing his legs to hide his discomfort, Harry glances over at Merlin. “Does it have a name?”

“We call it the Unified Neurological Wire Integration Network. The UNWIN, for short.” Merlin allows a small smile to flit over his face. “It, however, has brought up objections to such a title and prefers to go by Eggsy.”

Harry turns his attention back to the screen, where the UNWIN has focused on the camera pointed at it, head tilted slightly to one side.

“Delilah,” Merlin mumbles, turning slightly away from Harry. “Gather all the basic information about the UNWIN and have it made up into a file. I have a feeling Galahad will be paying you a visit soon to collect it.” He waits until he gets a short, clipped ‘yes, sir’ before deactivating the link and closing the video feed. “What do you think, Harry? Yes or no?”

Sighing, Harry passes a weary hand across his eyes, already wondering how much he’s going to regret this. “I suppose,” he says slowly, “it’s a yes.”

-

Delilah greets him outside the testing facility with a bulging manila folder and a warm smile. “Agent Galahad, welcome,” she chirps, holding one hand out to him.

He reaches out to shake it, finding the file shoved into his grasp almost as soon as he releases her. “I was told I would be receiving only what I needed to know,” he mutters, flipping back one of the covers and scanning his eyes over the first few pages.

“Yes, that’s what that is,” Delilah assures him, rubbing the back of her neck a little sheepishly. “You must understand that a system like the UNWIN… well, it’s quite complicated, naturally. If your observations are to be of any use to us you’ll have to know how he’s supposed to function normally so you can tell if there’s anything off. There’s a small section included where we detail the clusters most likely to go wrong and the warning signs that any particular one is failing.”

“Clusters,” Harry repeats, beginning to feel a little overwhelmed. His language is bullets and blood and adrenaline coursing through veins that won’t get tired, not UNWINs and motherboards and things that look human but aren’t.

Delilah nods sagely. “Yes. We’ve assigned each aspect of the android a cluster title. The nerve cluster is what allows it to feel external stimuli, like liquids, heat, that sort of thing, the cerebrum cluster is the unit that acts as its brain, the adfectus cluster allows it both to judge reactions and form ones of its own, and so on and so forth. You’ll need to have a good understanding of what each one is and does if you want to be able to accurately describe any malfunctions or abnormalities.”

The only thing Harry can do is look helplessly from the folder in his hand to the technician standing before him.

Placing a comforting hand on his forearm, Delilah offers him a reassuring smile, her face softening. “Don’t worry about all that right now, Mr. Hart,” she says, the small informality letting him know that she’s genuinely trying to comfort him. “You’ll have time to review most of that before it actually goes home with you. Shall we go introduce you?” She doesn’t really wait for an answer, just drops her hand and beckons him to follow as she hauls open the door to the complex and holds it open for him.

Harry shakes off the creeping tendrils of doubt that have begun to weave their way into his brain and walks after her. He is a Kingsman agent, after all. This is just another mission and it has been a long, long time since he last failed a mission.

Delilah leads him through a veritable maze of concrete corridors until they’re standing in front of a metal door that looks like it could withstand the blast from an atomic bomb. “We didn’t want anyone gaining access to it until we chose to release it,” she explains, keying in a security code that’s at least ten digits long.

There’s a slight beep followed by a click and the light on the security lock flicks from red to green.

Flashing him another quick smile, Delilah tugs open the door and disappears into the room, leaving Harry to catch up with her once again.

He goes into the room not knowing quite what to expect. It’s a fluster of subdued activity, technicians staring at monitors as if they contain the answers to the universe somewhere in all that code, others typing rapidly away, still others jotting down notes on clipboards, eyes fixed on some thing or another that’s levitating or spinning or doing something equally impressive.

And in the middle of it all is an isolated, glass cubicle with nothing inside but a bed that looks like it was taken straight out of a hospital and a parody of man, sitting with its hands folded neatly in its lap and its bare feet dangling off the bed. It glances up as they come near, moving to stand.

Up close now, Harry finds things, cues that suggest there is more machine than man in this thing in front of him. Its chest stays flat, not needing air to breathe. There is no restless shifting, no fidgeting to indicate discomfort. It doesn’t blink. And its eyes… Harry can’t quite put his finger on what it is that’s missing, but there’s _something_ , some spark of life, maybe, that just isn’t buried in those black pupils.

Delilah ushers him into the cubicle, securing the door behind them, sealing them in. Instantly the busy clatter from the room around them is cut off, leaving them in a stale sort of silence.

“How are you doing this morning, Eggsy?” Delilah asks conversationally. She tugs a pen out of the breast pocket of her lab coat, holding it poised over her clipboard.

Eggsy blinks once at Harry before swinging its head over to look at her. “Mornin’, Delilah. Feelin’ fine, what ‘bout you?”

That’s certainly not what Harry’s expecting. The voice isn’t a mechanical monotone like he’d thought it would be. There’s an easy cadence to it, a rhythm and prosody he didn’t know it was possible for a machine to replicate. And the _accent_. It isn’t formal or stuffy or at all proper; it sounds more like something one would hear whilst hurrying through the streets of Hackney.

“I’m quite well, thank you,” Delilah replies, scribbling a quick note on her papers before glancing up to tilt her head in Harry’s direction. “I’ve brought you a visitor.”

Harry feels a slight tremor of unease drip down his spine as the android’s empty eyes turn their full attention on him. Still, he maintains his façade of professionalism, extending his hand much as Delilah had done for him earlier. “Harry Hart. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Seeming almost hesitant, as if unsure just what’s expected of it, Eggsy reaches out to take Harry’s hand. “Harry,” he says, testing the name out, rolling it over his tongue as if it has a flavor that he’s trying to identify. “The name’s technically UNWIN, but it’s just Eggsy if you don’t mind.” It winks quickly, so quickly that Harry’s not even sure if it was a conscious act or just some momentary glitch.

Eggsy hasn’t done anything with his hand except hold it and Harry shakes it once before releasing him.

Instantly, Eggsy’s eyes fly to the space where his hand just was, his own arm dropping back to his side. There’s a slight pause, a millisecond where he doesn’t move at all, and then his lips form the word ‘handshake’, though he doesn’t actually say it.

Delilah’s own gaze, fixed on the two of them throughout the brief exchange, sharpens with interest and her pen flies over the paper. “We hadn’t taught it that yet,” she informs Harry, sparing him a brief glance. She finishes her note and clicks the pen down, tucking it back into her pocket. “Mr. Hart and I will be leaving now, Eggsy.” She pauses as if waiting for something.

“Yeah, see you later, bruv,” Eggsy says, giving them a wave of farewell before taking back up his position on the bed, shoulders slumping forward slightly, eyes sliding closed.

Delilah tilts her head towards the door, indicating that Harry should follow her out. They’re reabsorbed by the workplace chatter the instant they step out of the cubicle and he briefly misses the tranquility the near total silence had provided. “Wonderful, isn’t it?” the technician sighs, looking back in at him. She doesn’t give Harry the chance to agree (he’s not sure he even would) before she’s pushing on, placing her hand on his shoulder to make sure she has his full attention. “I expect you to read that file thoroughly and get very well-acquainted with its contents, Galahad. It’s critical that we know everything we can about how the UNWIN acts in a natural setting. Unfortunately, we can’t keep him in the lab forever.”

She sighs before she’s back in business mode. “A few things of note that aren’t mentioned; it doesn’t need food, water, or oxygen, but it does need a resting period of at least three hours a week, uninterrupted. That should give you plenty of time to make a complete report, yes? It can withstand a reasonable amount of water. It won’t malfunction if you take it out in a light rainfall, but no storms and no swimming pools. You aren’t to deactivate it unless it becomes a significant threat to you or has a severe malfunction that could potentially harm it or something around it. Should you ever need to, we’ve programmed in an oral deactivation code. Oxfords, not brogues. Not too likely to come up in a casual conversation.”

There’s a bit of a wry smile before she shakes her head and gets back on track. “There are several indicative phrases you can use to get it to perform certain things aside from straight orders which it is programmed to follow no matter what. I trust you will be responsible with what you ask him to do. Should you require some sort of observation be taken, whether the recording be audio or visual, all you have to do is tell it to ‘look alert.’ We’ve set up direct links to Merlin’s mainframes and he’ll get all the information the UNWIN takes in in real-time. Tell it to ‘stand and deliver’ and it will repeat any conversations it’s taken note of in the past fifteen minutes. We’re still working on the range for that, but right now it’s capped at 200 feet. Anything beyond that and it may pick up a few phrases, nothing more. And should you say anything that sounds like some sort of dismissal it will go into a resting hibernation mode, as you’ve just seen. Whenever you wish to wake it back up, simply say ‘initiate activation.’” She pauses, eyes narrowing. “Have you got all that?”

“Inside when the weather’s finicky, Oxfords not brogues if necessary, look alert for eyes and ears, stand and deliver for replay, hibernate with dismissal, and initiate activation to do just that,” Harry recites without missing a beat. He’s sat through enough of Merlin’s rapid-fire mission briefings to know how to retain pertinent information.

Apparently satisfied, Delilah gives him a sharp nod. “Then we’ll see you back here next week. Now, I believe you have some reading to do. I trust you can show yourself out?” Not bothering to wait for confirmation, she melts into the crowd of technicians, striding purposefully towards a small group of them in the back right corner.

Harry hefts the file up under his arm and begins making his way back out through the maze, having automatically catalogued every turn they’d made on the way in. Yes. He certainly has some reading to do.

-

“Just… just… bugger the fucking thing!” Harry snaps as the childproof lock slips from his fingers and clatters to the floor _again_. Sighing, he turns so his back is resting against the row of cabinets that are still waiting for their own locks and glares down at the packaging.

‘Easy-to-install’ is emblazoned in big, white lettering on the front of it and he curls his lip scornfully.

“Trouble, Galahad?” Merlin’s altogether too amused voice emanates from his glasses and he lets his head fall back with a soft thump. Of course the magician would have chosen just that point in time to check up on him.

Harry focuses in on the packaging, making sure Merlin gets a clear shot of it through his glasses. “I want whoever wrote this taken down for false advertising,” he mutters sullenly.

Merlin chuckles, the bastard, and says, “I’ll get right on that.”

“Are these really even necessary?” Harry asks, picking up one of the blasted things.

“Afraid so. We wouldn’t the UNWIN getting into anything until his programming has adapted for it, and I know you have weapons stashed all over that house,” Merlin says, trying and failing to sound disapproving. Kingsman issued weapons aren’t normally supposed to be taken to any premises other than the ones required by missions, but he doesn’t blame his agents when any of them go missing; he knows what it’s like to be a little overzealous in the security department and he’s always looking for an excuse to make more anyways.

Harry just groans and gets back on his feet, valiantly returning to the effort of getting the lock installed. “Forget the damn android, how am _I_ going to get to anything I need?”

“Try putting your back into it,” Merlin suggests, barely contained mirth oozing out of the words.

“Oh, fuck off.” Harry turns off his glasses to the lingering sound of the magician’s laughter.

-

The words practically swim off the page and Harry rubs at his eyes, trying in vain to get them to focus back on the list of clusters and signs of malfunctions. He might have read through the whole file twice at this point, but that doesn’t mean he’s any closer to understanding the technobabble and mechanical jargon he’s being forced to sift through. He’s long ago decided that Merlin’s ‘no familial ties’ line was bullshit and this is just the magician’s not-subtle-enough way of getting back at him for all the stress he’s caused him over the years.

It helps, somewhat, that Delilah has offered her services at any time, assuring him that he’s free to contact her at any hour with any problem. Her number one priority is ensuring the complete functionality of the UNWIN.

Harry glances at his watch and groans as he realizes it’s nearly three in the bloody morning and he’s got to be at the complex by eight to retrieve the android. He hauls himself out of the chair, draining the last of his glass of brandy down his throat before making his way to his bedroom to get what little sleep he can.

-

“Do you remember him, Eggsy?” Delilah asks, the ever-present companion that is her clipboard already in hand.

Eggsy barely even has to look at Harry before he nods in confirmation. “Harry Hart, codename Agent Galahad. Longest servin’ knight in Kingsman so far. Two accepted proposals, 78 missions classified as successful out of 79 missions total, and five strikes on record,” he recites dutifully.

Nodding, Delilah jots down a quick note before turning to look at Harry, who seems a little miffed at having his entire career reduced down to a few simple facts. She suppresses an amused smile. “The UNWIN automatically runs names through an ingrained database when it learns them. Any fact we have on record, it has access to. I trust you read through the files?”

“Thoroughly,” Harry assures her.

“And did you have any questions?” she presses, though most of her attention seems to be on the notes she’s still taking.

“Why is it warm?” Harry asks, facing her.

Her eyebrows pull together slightly and she gives him a bemused glance. “Sorry, what?”

“The other day, when I shook its hand. It’s warm. Like a… like a person,” he explains.

Delilah waves one hand in the air. “Yes, that would be because his design didn’t allow for a typical heat sink. There was no one central place to fit one in, so instead our engineers created a porous skin, much like our own, in fact, to release the heat from its inner workings all over the body. It puts off slightly less heat than a human, but Eggsy here could fool a thermal sensor, if needed. Anything else?”

Harry shakes his head.

Delilah gives him a bright, beaming smile. “Wonderful. We’ve already arranged for a taxi to be filled with some things the UNWIN will need and it should be waiting for the two of you outside,” she informs him. “If you think of anything just contact me. We’ll be expecting your first report tomorrow; just a basic overview of its first experience outside of the lab will be sufficient, no essays necessary this time. Good luck.” She gives him a brief touch to the shoulder before leaving the cubicle and inserting herself back into the constant flow of the lab.

The door swings shut behind her, leaving Harry and Eggsy essentially alone, despite the fact that the walls are made entirely of glass and their every move can easily be seen. Harry clears his throat and inclines his head in the direction of the door. “Shall we?”

Clearly taking that as some sort of order, Eggsy lurches into motion, striding towards the door and swinging it open, stepping to one side so Harry can pass through.

Trying to appear unruffled by the fact that he now has what essentially equates to a highly sophisticated manservant, Harry walks through, pausing to wait for Eggsy. He ends up waiting longer than expected. When he turns back to see why, he sees the android standing in the doorway of the cubicle, seemingly frozen. “Eggsy?” he prompts.

The android gives a little start, something almost like surprise, and turns its wide-eyed gaze on Harry. “There’s so much,” it breathes. “I could see it, but… hearin’, there’s… so much,” it stammers. “Gimme a minute. Sensors need to process.”

Harry waits the few seconds that it takes for Eggsy’s servers to stabilize, sighing slightly with relief when the android follows after him. It would have been a terrible shame for it to break with its first few steps out of its room.

Eggsy falls in just half a step behind him, still seemingly fascinated by everything going on around him. He keeps glancing around, eyes landing on whatever has caught his fleeting attention for mere milliseconds before moving on to the next thing. His mouth hangs slightly open in what could be taken as wonder.

Briefly, Harry wonders why the engineers had programmed in that particular reaction, but he tries not to dwell on it. It’s certainly not his job to question why they’ve done what they’ve done, only to watch it. He leads Eggsy back through the concrete corridors, the android looking a little disappointed at its suddenly dull surroundings.

Then they step outside and he hisses in a breath sharply, going stock still again.

Harry’s halfway to the cab before he realizes it and he lets out a small huff of annoyance as he turns around to face him. The complaint he’d been about to make dies on his lips. The expression on the android’s face is one of pure awe, overwhelmed by its first real taste of life. Harry imagines it’s the face a newborn would make if it had the mental capacity to do so.

Eggsy’s first move once his processors have calmed back down is to crouch down, one finger reaching out almost tentatively to trail along a blade of grass. Suddenly seeming to remember that he has something of an audience, he tilts his head up to look at Harry, offers him a sheepish grin. “Seen all this in my databases. Bit different in real life, though, innit?”

“I suppose so,” Harry concedes. “I wouldn’t truly know. I don’t have databases.”

Eggsy shrugs, rising back to his feet. “Yeah, but ain’t you ever seen a picture of somethin’ you don’t actually have, then gotten it? That’s probably close to the same thing.”

Harry considers that for a moment before nodding. “Close to it,” he finally says before turning on his heel and resuming his trek to the cab. He can hear the slight rustle of Eggsy’s footsteps behind him and he reaches the car first, opening the door.

Eggsy hesitates. “Um, that was… I was supposed to do that,” he mutters, looking physically uncomfortable at not being able to complete his directive.

Closing his eyes, and sending up a quick plea for patience, Harry releases the door, letting it swing closed again before stepping back.

Looking immensely relieved, Eggsy practically leaps forward, sweeping the door open for him. One corner of his mouth edges up in an apologetic smile. “Ain’t so good at adaptin’ yet, sorry. I’ll get better, promise.” He lifts his free hand and makes an ‘X’ over the spot where his heart would be.

Harry just clears his throat and slips into the cab, giving the driver his address. He settles back, face turned just slightly away from Eggsy as the android moves in to sit beside him, tugging the door closed after it.

As the car rolls through the streets of London, Harry can practically feel the excitement radiating from the machine next to him. Eggsy keeps his face plastered to the glass of the window for the entirety of the trip, eyes able to pick out the tiniest details despite their clipping along at forty miles an hour.

“Did you see that, Harry?” he asks several times, turning to give him a delighted grin. Most of the time, no, Harry didn’t see that, because Eggsy is referring to a butterfly visible for half a second before they were gone or the glimpse of a fish he managed to get as they crossed over a bridge. But Eggsy never seems too upset when he shakes his head, just turns back to the window in fascination.

Harry can feel exhaustion creeping into his bones at the mere thought of how much vitality the android seems to possess. If he’s going to be this excited over everything, Harry’s not sure how he’s expected to keep up. He lets out a small sigh of relief when the taxi rolls to a halt in front of his house, already moving to get out almost before it completely stops.

The cabbie waves off his offer of payment without a word as Eggsy tugs his things out of the boot, holding the luggage easily in one hand.

“This where you live?” he asks as the cab drives off and Harry rummages through his pockets for his keys.

“Yes.” Harry unlocks the door, swinging it open and striding inside before Eggsy can make some protest about how that was his job or something equally irritating. To his surprise (and relief) Eggsy doesn’t mention it, just follows meekly in after him, eagerly taking in his new surroundings. “No server trouble?” he asks mildly.

Eggsy shakes his head. “Nah, should be good with that from now on. Ain’t gonna get overwhelmed unless somethin’ real big happens,” he mutters absently, the better part of his concentration on cataloguing every detail his eyes run across.

Now that they’re actually at his house, Harry realizes he has no idea what to do. He doesn’t get visitors often, certainly not ones who stay more than a couple hours. Nor does he spend much time in his own place, either; focused as he is on his work, he generally spends nights in his office at Kingsman or away on missions. “There’s a guest room upstairs,” he finally says. “You can put your things there. I’ll take you to it.” Eggsy, he’s sure, is entirely capable of finding it on his own, but he doesn’t have anything better to do anyways and he heads for the stairs, the android trailing after him.

Eggsy seems intrigued even by such a thing as a staircase, watching the way both his and Harry’s legs move as they climb, skimming his fingers over the railing with his free hand.

Harry pauses outside the closed door to the guest room, wondering what sort of a state it’s even in. For all he knows there could be junk piled about everywhere, dust three inches thick on the windowsills. Perhaps, he thinks, he should take up spring cleaning. Hoping for the best, and absently wondering just why he is so concerned about it anyways considering Eggsy isn’t likely to care, he opens it, glancing quickly around before standing to the side. It’s suitable enough, the air maybe a touch musty, but Eggsy isn’t breathing it so he’s not going to complain.

Eggsy sets his baggage on the bed, scanning the small room. “’S nice, Harry, thank you,” he tells him, offering him a small smile. “More furniture than my old room anyways. An’ solid walls.” He reaches out to press his fingertips against the plaster as if expecting them to go right through to the other side. After a second he shakes his head, pulling himself out of his thoughts. Turning to the duffel bag, he unzips it and starts unloading the clothes the facility had packed for him.

“I’ll be downstairs if you need anything,” Harry informs him, already backing out. When he receives a slight nod from Eggsy, he turns and makes his way back down the stairs, halting halfway down. His fingers curl around the banister, grip going white knuckled to keep his hand from shaking. The brief meeting he’d had with the android before hadn’t prepared him, not for this. Not for something so childlike, so bizarrely human. It would be better, easier, if the machine acted like a machine. They’d _created_ him, for Christ’s sake, he was different, had to be. Those soulless eyes… He jerked his head roughly to one side, snapping himself out of it. Eggsy was an android and androids weren’t human. That was that.

His feet started moving again automatically and he found himself in the kitchen, reaching for a bottle of brandy. He was going to need more than one.

-

**_Field Report #1_ **

_Submission by Agent Galahad_

_00-01296_

_Recipients: Merlin & Delilah Moore_

_Subject: The Unified Neurological Wired Integration Network (henceforth to be abbreviated as UNWIN)_

_The 8 th of October, 2015_

_Subject displayed signs of server trouble upon introduction to new settings, namely the interior of the lab in which it was previously housed and the outdoor courtyard directly outside the complex. No such signs were displayed in the taxi ride to the Hart residence, where it is now housed, nor upon the introduction to any of the rooms of said residence or the residence itself. When questioned, the subject stated that it was aware of such issues, but insisted the internal troubles had been resolved and should not make a further appearance unless introduced to an environment more chaotic than a combination of those previous._

_Subject displays a sense of curiosity equal to that of a toddler, but is able to satisfy it more effectively. In other words, the subject has easily subverted the childproof locks, rendering them useless and the time and efforts of a certain agent wasted. Subject handled the weapons it found safely and efficiently, seemingly able to fully comprehend their inner workings and the consequences of their use. Subject also seemed to have some understanding of right and wrong, as such a violation of the locks would have gone unnoticed but for Agent Galahad catching it in the act of replacing everything as it had found it. Subject displayed signs of guilt in the form of an apology and an inability to look Agent Galahad directly in the eyes._

_Subject also seems to display minimal understanding of nocturnal human behaviors, as it awoke Agent Galahad several times during the night to ensure he was still breathing, despite reassurances that said agent was unlikely to stop. Some signs of separation anxiety have presented themselves in the form of the subject refusing to leave Agent Galahad’s bedroom until directly ordered to do so. Were it possible, it could be surmised that the subject has a fear of abandonment-_

“What’s that taste like?” Eggsy asks, interrupting the soft clack of the keys on Harry’s laptop.

Attention thus diverted, Harry looks up, brow furrowed. “Pardon?”

Eggsy nods with his head towards a half-eaten slice of buttered toast that sits on a plate at Harry’s elbow, complemented by a steaming mug of tea. “That. What’s it taste like?”

Harry opens his mouth to reply before realizing he has no idea how to. What is there to say about a slice of bread; how is one supposed to explain a thing like taste?

“I’d just have some, but I ain’t got a digestive system. Delilah thinks food would probably just block somethin’ up,” he sighs, sounding dejected. “Gave me a bloody good sense of smell, though, didn’t they?” He leans forward a bit closer to the food, before inhaling deeply.

Resisting the urge to pull his breakfast away from Eggsy, Harry stares at it, trying to come up with a sufficient explanation for taste. Everything he can think of only relates to another taste, and that wouldn’t be any help at all. A moment passes in which he doesn’t say anything until he picks up the toast, tearing a small piece of it off and offering it out to him. “Here.”

“I can’t-“

“You can’t eat it, but you can stick it in your mouth. If you’ve got a tongue, and we both know you do, you can taste it. Just don’t swallow,” Harry directs, knowing there won’t be any risk of that happening now that he’s been given an order.

Uncertainly, Eggsy accepts the small chunk of bread, bringing it to his lips. The action is unfamiliar to him, but he’s been watching Harry do it all morning and he slips it into his mouth. He has to hold himself back from chewing, an automatic urge to imitate Harry’s movements swelling up, but he keeps his jaw clenched, just letting the flavor soak into his tongue. It takes a bit, but his eyes widen when he finally tastes it. “Oh my gah,” he says, mouth still full. “Tha’ tastes amazin’.”

One of Harry’s eyebrows quirks upward and he takes a bite of it himself, wondering if it’s somehow changed while it’s been sitting unattended on the plate. But, no, it’s the same boring toast it’s always been and he casts another skeptical glance at Eggsy. “Go on, then, spit it out,” he mutters once it becomes clear that he’s going to keep it for as long as he can.

Eggsy pouts slightly, but doesn’t make any further objections, just stands up and lets the mouthful slide into the wastebin with a bit of a regretful look. “Shame I can’t really eat it, innit?” he sighs, reclaiming his seat and propping his face in one hand.

“I’ll let you have a bite of everything from now on, since you’ve enjoyed that so much,” Harry finds himself saying without ever planning on saying it. It’s only a waste of food, but Eggsy lights up at the promise anyways, sitting up straighter.

“You mean it, Harry?” he asks, eyes shining eagerly.

Harry hesitates slightly before nodding. Eggsy might not actually be capable of feeling anything, but he does a damn good job at seeming like he can, and he’d rather not face his sulking disappointment for the rest of the day. “Yes, I mean it,” he sighs, resolving not to buy anything fancy until he has the opportunity to put Eggsy into hibernation.

Eggsy clears his throat, folding his arms on the table and tilting his head slightly to one side. “So, what are we doin’ today?” he asks.

Glancing briefly at his field report, Harry flicks his gaze back towards Eggsy. “I had thought to show you around the house, but it would appear you already took that liberty,” he states dryly.

Eggsy has the decency to look abashed, lowering his eyes and shooting him a sheepish smile. “Sorry. But it ain’t like I had anythin’ better to do. Sleepin’ takes too long and it’s borin’ to just watch.”

Wishing that Eggsy could have contained himself to just watching, and resolving to order him out of the room at the beginning of every evening from now on, Harry just shakes his head. “First and foremost I have to finish this report. You can make yourself useful and…” His eyes land on his neglected breakfast and he pushes the dishes toward Eggsy. “Dishes, if you would be so kind.”

“Sure thing, bruv,” Eggsy says, collecting the plate and mug and taking them over the sink. He dumps the tea down the sink and rinses it out, casting a sly glance back over his shoulder as the clack of keys starts back up again. He leaves the water running, reaching for the small bit of toast that still remains, bringing it up to his mouth, and-

“And you’d better not have any more of that toast,” Harry says, loud enough to be heard over the running faucet.

Foiled, Eggsy tosses the crust into the wastebin to join his earlier bite, grumbling all the while.

-

Harry stares up at the ceiling even though he can’t see it, shrouded in darkness as it is. The only sound is his breathing, in and out in and out in and out, one set even though there are two of them in the room. He’d forgotten to order the android out and now couldn’t be bothered to, just let him sit there in a an armchair in one corner of the room. The only sign he was even there was a slight mechanical whirring now and again that had Harry wondering if he should ask Delilah if that was normal. The minutes ticked by and he grew more and more weary, but every time he closed his eyes all he could hear was the pounding of his heart and his own breath in his chest.

“Eggsy?”

“Yeah?” The android sounded as it always did, voice unslurred by sleep, as bright and cheerful as if it was the middle of the afternoon.

“Get out.”

-

His bedroom is empty when he blinks awake and he lets out a brief sigh of relief. He goes through his usual morning routine until he’s walking down to the kitchen with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his red robe and notices it’s unusually quiet. Eggsy might not make much noise, but he makes enough that his presence is usually known. “Eggsy?” he calls, peering into the kitchen.

It’s empty and a small seed of panic plants itself in Harry’s chest. If the android isn’t here that means it either wandered off on its own and is now roaming the streets of London unsupervised or, a much more terrifying thought, someone managed to get into his house and take it. “Eggsy?” he asks again, moving quickly to sweep the rest of the ground floor.

With each empty room the seed grows a little larger until it feels like he’s going to choke. Shoving down the rising panic, Harry forces himself to go up the stairs slowly, checking both the bedrooms and, irrationally, the linen closet. “Fuck me,” he breathes when that turns up just as much nothing as his search of the bottom floor.

Quickly he heads into his bedroom, snatching up his glasses and activating the comms.

“Harry? What is it?” asks Merlin.

“I can’t find it,” Harry says, voice slightly more pinched than he wants it be as he shrugs out of his robe and starts pulling on a suit. Bulletproof, just in case.

“Are you referring to the UNWIN?” Merlin presses, not sounding nearly as panicked as Harry thinks he should.

Waspishly, Harry snaps, “Of course I’m referring to the UNWIN,” bending to lace his shoes up hastily. He’s already marching down the stairs when Merlin speaks again.

“You realize, of course, we’ve installed a tracker in it.”

“That isn’t entirely reassuring, Merlin,” Harry hisses, wondering why the hell the magician isn’t taking this more seriously. “We can know where it is without being able to retrieve it or-“ His tirade dies as he strides out of the front door to see Eggsy sitting on the curb, knees tucked up to his chest, chin resting atop them. “Never mind, Merlin,” he mutters quietly, deactivating the comms before he has to listen to anything too patronizing.

Eggsy turns to face him as he walks up behind him, a slight layer of dew covering him. Droplets of water quiver on his eyelashes and his lips look redder than ever, glistening damply. “Mornin’, Harry,” he greets him, lowering his chin back to his kneecaps and letting his eyes slide closed.

It’s clear that Eggsy has been sitting out there for most of the night and Harry’s brow furrows. “Eggsy, what the hell are you doing out here?”

Eyes opening again, Eggsy turns a confused look on him. “You told me to get out,” he reminds him, not sounding particularly accusatory.

Somehow, that only serves to make Harry feel worse. “I meant my room, not my house,” he clarifies, several hours too late.

Eggsy only shrugs. “Didn’t specify. Wasn’t sure. ‘S okay, Harry, a little dew won’t hurt,” he assures him, smiling and rising to his feet as if to prove his point.

Harry stands there for a moment just looking at him before he sighs and rubs a hand over his forehead. “Come on,” he says, walking out to the main road and hailing a taxi.

Brow furrowed slightly in confusion, Eggsy does as he’s told, wandering up to Harry just as a cab pulls up. He slips in when Harry opens the door, tilts his head curiously to the side as Harry tells the cabbie “400 Oxford Street.” He’s instantly scanning the street in his head, but he can’t predict just where they’ll be stopping; nothing seems plausible. “What’re we goin’ there for?”

Harry chooses not to answer, leaning his head back against the seat and letting his eyes slide closed for the brief ride.

When they come to a halt, Eggsy has to hold himself back from just climbing over the man, practically buzzing from curiosity. The cab lurches off as soon as Harry has paid and Eggsy looks up at the small building they’re standing in front of. “Patisserie? Harry, you ain’t even had breakfast yet,” he says, giving him a thoroughly bemused glance.

“It doesn’t matter, we’re going in,” Harry mutters, pointedly not looking at him as he reaches forwards to haul open the doors. He holds it, gesturing with his head to indicate that Eggsy should go on through.

Eggsy does so a little uneasily, shoving his hands in his pockets before turning to Harry when he follows. “Think somethin’ might be broken,” he mumbles, voice low. His eyes dart around quickly, ascertaining that no one is close enough to overhear them.

Immediately Harry looks concerned, leaning in closer. “What? Why?”

“Cause I ain’t got any idea what we’re doin’ here! ‘M supposed to be able to analyze behavior and shit, but…” He trails off, shrugging his shoulders helplessly.

Harry just huffs out a sigh, shaking his head. “For heaven’s sake, Eggsy, I thought there might actually be a problem.” He makes his way up to the glass counter, offering a slightly-tighter-than-usual smile to the cashier before looking over the products. He waits until Eggsy is at his shoulder once again before saying, “Pick something.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Pick something,” Harry repeats, shoving down the urge to roll his eyes.

“But I don’t- Oh,” Eggsy says, things clicking into place. A smirk spreads over his face and his arms cross over his chest, one eyebrow quirking up. “I’ve got what this is. You feel guilty, don’t you? I already told you, Harry, I’m fine. Just cause I spent the night outside don’t mean you should feel-“

“I do not feel guilty,” Harry snaps, straightening up to face him. “Now pick something before I decide to get whatever looks the least appetizing.”

Pressing his lips together in a thinly veiled attempt to hide a smile, Eggsy takes Harry’s place. His eye lands on a caramel-colored something and he points to it. “That one,” he declares.

Harry swallows down a groan. It’s exactly what he would have picked for his ‘least appetizing’ option, but he nods to the cashier anyways.

“One salted caramel and popcorn éclair,” she says, ringing it up and sliding it over to Eggsy.

He takes it eagerly, bringing the bag up to his nose and inhaling. “Shit, this smells amazin’,” he breathes out, nose still stuck in the paper bag.

Harry hurries back out to catch another taxi before Eggsy gets the chance to do much else, forcing the android to follow after him, leaving the cashier looking after them with a slightly puzzled expression.

-

“You should get mad at me more often,” Eggsy mutters around a mouthful of éclair. “I like the way you apologize.”

The pages of Harry’s newspaper rustle as he flips it, eyes focused on the headlines instead of Eggsy. “I wasn’t mad at you and that’s not an apology.”

Briefly wondering just how much it would fuck up his inner workings if he actually did swallow anything, Eggsy bends down to the wastebin, reluctantly spitting out the bite. He sits back up, nudging the rest of the pastry over to Harry. “Not mad at me, huh?” He settles back, deepening his voice and making an exaggerated pout. “Get out,” he grumps, not sounding very much like Harry at all, in Harry’s opinion.

Harry eyes the éclair before deciding it would be useless to waste the rest of it. Sighing, he folds up his newspaper and picks it up, properly looking at Eggsy for the first time that day. “I didn’t realize you were going to take it so literally. I am sorry, Eggsy.” He pauses, the pastry at his lips. “And _that_ was an apology.”

Eggsy lets out a brief little laugh before it abruptly cuts off and he freezes, blinking.

Distracted by the éclair (which is far better than he’d been expecting it to be; who knew salty and sweet went so well together?) Harry glances up after a few seconds of silence. “Eggsy?” he asks.

Eggsy’s head snaps up and he shakes his head slightly. “Nothin’ to worry about. Just… didn’t know I could laugh, is all. Never done it before.”

Silence falls between them for a few uncomfortable seconds.

“You done with that?” Eggsy asks, voice muted, head tilted in the direction of Harry’s plate.

Harry just nods and goes back to his newspaper as Eggsy disappears into the kitchen.

-

The next few days are a learning experience for both of them. Harry tests out just how specific he can be with orders before they’re followed (because Eggsy, it turns out, can be a bit lazy sometimes) and Eggsy tests out human boundaries (yes, humans are fine even if they _do_ make weird popping noises sometimes, and no, they most certainly do _not_ need any help reaching their back in the shower, they can get it themselves).

Harry sends Merlin his recordings every evening and receives several notes and analyses in the mornings, scanning through them to make sure everything is running at least mostly okay.

The day before they’re supposed to go back to the lab so Delilah can give Eggsy a more thorough testing, Harry dismisses him, lets him get the three hours of rest he needs. He sits down at his laptop.

-

**_Field Report #2_ **

_Submission by Agent Galahad_

_00-01296_

_Recipients: Merlin & Delilah Moore_

_Subject: The UNWIN_

_The 21 st of October, 2015_

_Subject has displayed the rapid ability to learn. It has an incredible aptitude for emotional analysis and response, far past the expected parameters outlined in the subject’s file. The adfectus cluster seems to be advancing and expanding with far more rapidity than other clusters as it often relies on parroting the reactions of humans instead of forming its own. To illustrate this, I submit a recent example._

_The android poked itself with a needle as it was rearranging items in a linen closet and, though it could not feel pain, recognized that a human would have and reacted appropriately, if not proportionately. It did, perhaps, offer a more enthusiastic response than a normal person would have by startling to its feet and cursing, but that only serves to further prove the point._

_One could make the hypothesis that it is adapting to humanity by doing its best to become human. As time progresses and it makes more observations, it would be reasonable to predict that it will learn the slight subtleties more and more until it is able to be nearly perfect in its replication of a human’s normal response._

_Requesting an evaluation on whether or not to continue the program, in light of this evidence._

_Signed,_

_Galahad_

-

Harry knocks on the door to Merlin’s office, not a muscle moving when it flies open under his touch. His friend has always been better with punctuality than he himself ever will be. “Merlin. You wanted to see me,” he says mildly, giving him a bit of a nod as he lets himself into the room.

“I did. I assume the UNWIN is already with Delilah?” Merlin asks, closing the door behind him and seating himself behind his desk.

With a slight flash of disappointment as he notes the absence of a bottle of scotch Harry takes the chair opposite, crossing one leg over the other and relaxing back into the seat. He settles his gaze on Merlin, waiting for the magician to speak.

Merlin clears his throat, leaning forwards until his arms are propped on his desk. “In your latest report, Galahad, you suggested the android be deactivated. Why?”

“It wasn’t a suggestion. I was merely pointing out that the projected path I was given seems to be a bit less than sufficient in actually explaining its capabilities,” Harry says mildly, curling his fingers into a loose fist to keep them from tapping against the arm of the chair.

There’s a brief moment where all Merlin does is stare at Harry, eyes narrowed slightly, before he just sighs and shakes his head once. “We’re going to continue the program. I’ll have Delilah adjust some of the predicted patterns if she hasn’t already and send you an updated version, if that will be of any help. You’ve done well so far, Harry.” A bit of a wry smile makes a fleeting appearance. “Better than I expected.”

Grumbling about how little faith the organization has in him sometimes, Harry rises to his feet. “Just get me those predictions,” he says wearily, already heading for the door.

As it closes behind the agent, Merlin activates his glasses. “Did you get all that, Delilah?”

“Yes, Merlin.”

“Good. Write up the reports and send them to him as soon as you can. And make sure we start monitoring the UNWIN twenty-four seven. I don’t want to miss any of it.”

“Yes, Merlin.”

-

“This is torture, Harry, ‘s like you’re tryin’ to kill me,” Eggsy groans, eying the bags upon bags of on-sale two-for-one candy that fill the shops.

Harry snorts, ignoring all of it and heading for the liquor section. Normally he wouldn’t be bothering with a shop like this for a brandy like this, but sometimes you needed the cheap stuff just to remind you how good the expensive stuff was. It only helped that the cheap stuff got you drunk faster and more thoroughly than the renowned brands could ever hope to.

Reluctantly, Eggsy pulls himself away from the jumbo-sized packs of Hersheys and Snickers to follow after Harry. “What’s it all for, anyways?”

“Halloween,” Harry mutters, only half paying attention. He squints suspiciously at the bottles labeled with unfamiliar brand names trying to discern just by looking which one is the best worst brandy. After a fruitless moment he just reaches out and picks one, turning around sharply and almost running straight into Eggsy who’s craning his head back to try and get a look at the sweets again. “For God’s sake, Eggsy, you can’t eat any of them anyways and I’m certainly not going to finish off a whole bag.”

Eggsy throws his hands up in surrender, taking half a step back to give him some space. “I know, I know. We should at least dress up, though. Could get one of those weird couples costumes or somethin’. That would be fun.”

Harry just gives him a look that implies he thinks it would most certainly _not_ be fun.

Grinning, Eggsy waves the idea off. “Or I’ll just be a robot.” He straightens up and makes his movements jerky, stuttering out a wave. “Hel-lo,” he says in a pinched, nasally voice that sounds eerily mechanical. “I am the UNWIN. How may I serve you to-day, Mis-ter Hart?”

Glancing around quickly to make sure nobody has overheard, Harry turns his glare on Eggsy. “Stop that, it isn’t funny,” he hisses, feeling distinctly uncomfortable.

Eggsy bites his bottom lip in a vain effort to keep from smiling at how frazzled Harry looks. “It’s a little bit funny.”

Harry scrubs a hand over his face as if pained. “If I buy you some candy will you shut up for a few minutes?” he groans, voice slightly muffled behind his hand.

Brightening instantly, Eggsy nods, swiping a finger over his chest. “Cross my heart.”

Harry cracks open one eye to study him momentarily before heaving a heavy, world-weary sigh. “At least get something I like,” he mutters.

Eggsy spends enough time deliberating that Harry almost makes it through the check-out without him. At the last second he slides a giant bag of Reese’s through the line.

Harry hates peanut butter.

-

“That had better not be what I think it is,” Harry says sternly, getting no small amount of satisfaction from the way Eggsy startles, head whipping his head around to stare wide-eyed at Harry.

“Uh… it isn’t?” The protest is somewhat ruined by the mouthful of chocolate and the loud crunching of the Reese’s bag as he tries to hide it. Cringing, he glances up at Harry, giving him a not-that-apologetic smile. “Sorry.”

Harry just raises one eyebrow. “It appears I didn’t have to worry about eating any of those myself.”

-

Eggsy has been standing in the doorway to his office for the past five minutes and hasn’t said a word. He’s beginning to wonder if there’s been some sort of malfunction. Eventually, he puts down his pen and looks up at him. “Did you want something, Eggsy?” he prompts, folding his arms over each other and leaning forward.

He drags the toe of his shoe over the carpet and bites his lip, watching the patterns he’s drawing with his foot instead of looking at Harry. “Nothin’ really, I was just wonderin’ somethin’.”

When it becomes clear that Eggsy isn’t going to expand on that statement, Harry asks, “Wondering what?”

“D’you think we could get some more Halloween candy?” He finally looks up, face hopeful. “Not for me,” he hurries to add, sensing the impending protest. “But I was just thinkin’ you might get some kids comin’ round here and we should have somethin’ to give ‘em, yeah?”

Harry has managed to put the thought of Halloween mostly out of his mind, along with the thought of trick-or-treaters. He doesn’t usually get many visitors, but that was probably because he darkened all the windows and made it as uninviting a place as possible. It isn’t that he dislikes children, it’s just that he dislikes children. “I… suppose. But just one bag. Once it’s gone, it’s gone, even if you’ve eaten all of it,” he warns him.

Eggsy brightens up, nodding enthusiastically. “Yeah, don’t worry. Thanks, Harry.” Then he’s gone and Harry returns back to his paperwork. Perhaps Halloween won’t be quite as terrible this year.

And it isn’t. Eggsy, it turns out, isn’t bad with kids. He even seems to like them if the way he sneaks extra pieces of candy into the bowls of children with costumes he considers cool is any indication. Harry keeps a mental log of Eggsy’s preferences, but the list doesn’t provide much at the end of it. There’s a little girl dressed like a daisy, a small boy dressed as a pug, and a set of twins dressed as a knight and a king. No patterns that he can see.

Still, they’re completely out by the time the stream of kids stops up and his shoulders sag slightly in relief. Eggsy wanders into the kitchen to put up the bowl. “Well,” Harry begins once he comes back into the sitting room, “was Halloween everything you hoped it would be?”

“Yeah,” Eggsy says, nodding. “I like kids,” he declares after a brief pause, sinking into the armchair that has unofficially become his.

Harry lets out a soft snort of amusement.

“An’ I think we should celebrate Thanksgivin’,” Eggsy adds a moment later.

Brow furrowing in confusion, Harry turns his focus completely on Eggsy. “That is an exclusively American holiday, you realize,” he says slowly, wondering if that’s somehow slipped past his notice. It’s not a mistake he should have made.

Eggsy just shrugs one shoulder. “Yeah, I know. But I wanna try turkey and it’s a good excuse.”

Harry just lets out an amused chuckle. “Then I’ll just buy some. We don’t have to make a whole deal out of it.”

“Aces,” Eggsy says with a triumphant grin.

-

**_Field Report #3_ **

_Submission by Agent Galahad_

_00-01296_

_Recipients: Merlin & Delilah Moore_

_Subject: The UNWIN_

_The 3 rd of November, 2015_

_Subject has continued to display remarkable rapidity in the growth of expressive and receptive emotions. He has also begun to develop preferences, showing favoritism towards some things in particular. A more specific example of this would be movie genres. He’s become quite attached to musicals and classics, particularly old spy movies. He’s also developed tastes in the fields of literature, music, and food, despite not being able to eat properly._

_The subject has developed in all other areas as well, simply to a lesser extent. He seems quite capable of performing at Kingsman’s standards and living up to the expectations indicated in the packet. The predictions (excepting the ones for the adfectus cluster) have had astounding levels of accuracy and, it can be assumed, will continue to serve as good indications for future behaviors._

_The revisions to the data on the adfectus cluster have thus far proven to be more accurate than the initial reports. Agent Galahad has also tested out all the features over the course of the past two weeks and has discovered no malfunctions in any of them. The subject’s report for ‘stand and deliver’ was given flawlessly, capturing intonations and inflections as well as content. Merlin informed the agent that he received the live feed when the ‘look alert’ command was given and the subject entered into his hibernal period when dismissed._

_Requesting permission to move onto the next stage of testing._

_Signed,_

_Galahad_

-

Harry sits across from Merlin, waiting for the magician to speak first. There’s a look on his face that worries him slightly, some sternness in his eyes that doesn’t bode well.

“It’s come to our attention,” Merlin finally starts, breaking the silence, “that you might not be qualified to continue monitoring the UNWIN.”

Taken a bit aback Harry sits up straighter, blinking in surprise. “Excuse me?”

Merlin levels him with a look that says he shouldn’t be so surprised. “We think you’re becoming emotionally compromised,” he clarifies.

“Well, that’s bloody ridiculous. Whatever gave you that impression?” Harry mutters, crossing one leg over the other.

“You’ve started referring to it as ‘he’.”

A protest bubbles to his lips before Harry stops, clamping down on it. Has he? He mentally reviews the last few days, focusing in particular on the field report he’d sent out. Bugger. “Nothing more than a momentary slip, I assure you,” he says lightly, trying to wave off the incident. “You know I write those things half-pissed.”

But Merlin’s ready for that, counters with, “And we know you’ve been “feeding” it. After the concern you expressed in your last report, I decided to place a twenty-four monitor on the UNWIN to ensure he was still able to function properly.” At first the intermittent flare-ups of the taste sensors had been worrying, then confusing, and they’d finally just turned on the video feed in the middle of one. Delilah had only calmed down when she noticed Eggsy spitting out every bite he took, but still went off grumbling about ‘gumming up the works.’ Merlin leans in, looking Harry squarely in the eye to make sure he gets the message loud and clear. “Harry. It isn’t human. No matter how convincing it may seem,” he says slowly.

Harry sighs, closing his eyes briefly, fingers twitching around an imaginary glass of brandy that he desperately wishes for. “I know, Merlin. I’m still perfectly capable of taking care of hi- it.” How convincing.

Merlin watches him for a moment without saying anything, studying his face. Eventually he nods, settling back into his chair again. “I believe you also wanted us to consider moving on to the field test,” he says mildly.

Nodding, Harry opens his eyes again. “I did.”

A bit of a smile comes onto Merlin’s face and he reaches into one of his desk drawers, pulling out a large manila folder, stuffed full of papers. “We’re granting that request.” He hands the file over to Harry in a manner that can only be described as smug.

“What’s this?” Harry asks, made wary by the magician’s expression.

“Your assigned reading. There’s a whole new set of features to prepare for.”

Harry groans.

-

This is where Harry belongs, not cooped up in his own house, restless hands having nothing to occupy them, sharp eyes having nothing to catch. This is the first time he’s felt truly relaxed in months, fingers curled around the grip of a gun, the crack of the shot still ringing through his ears. He fires once, twice, thrice, just empties the whole damn clip into the target, bullets ripping through the paper. When there’s nothing left but an empty click he lowers his arm.

“That is sick,” Eggsy says at his shoulder, staring at the tattered remains. Heart or head shots, all of them. “Can I have a go?”

“That’s what we’re here for.” Harry reluctantly hands over the gun, reaching for the nearby table where they’ve laid out a rather impressive spread of weaponry. He picks up another magazine and Eggsy takes it from him, sliding the spent one out and replacing it before Harry has the chance to ask whether or not he knows how to reload. The click of the hammer sliding in to place as Eggsy cocks it answers that question. “Safety off?”

“Safety’s off,” Eggsy confirms, thumbing the small switch just to be sure.

“Then whenever you’re ready.” He steps back to give him some room, hands sliding into his pockets.

Eggsy sucks in a deep breath (a habit he’s picked up, Harry’s noticed; he has to constantly remind himself that there’s no need for the android to actually breathe) and levels the gun at the next target over, squaring his stance. It’s an exact copy of Harry’s, with a few slight adjustments to the angle of his arm to account for the difference in height. There’s a brief second where his eyes narrow and then six shots fire off in rapid succession, air vibrating with the sound. The grin on Eggsy’s face is a mile wide as he drops his arm, swinging around to beam at Harry proudly. “Not bad for a first time, yeah?”

Five of them are headshots. The sixth has gone straight through the throat.

Harry’s eyebrows raise a bit before he can stop them and he concedes the point with a nod. “Not bad at all.” A sudden thought takes him and he scans his eyes over the table until he finds what he’s looking for, plucking up a small shuriken and holding it delicately between his fingers. “Do you know what this is?” he asks.

Eggsy shrugs. “’S a throwing star, innit?”

“And have you ever thrown one?” Harry presses.

Eggsy just shakes his head.

Harry offers it out to him. “Here.”

Eggsy grabs it without hesitation, holding it carefully so as not to cut himself.

Indicating a cork bulletin board on the opposite end of the training facility with a tilt of his head, Harry says, “That’s your target.”

There’s a slight look of apprehension that flits over Eggsy’s face, but it’s washed away a second later as he furrows his brow in concentration, a determined set to his jaw. He aims, raises his arm, and brings it forward all in one fluid motion, the small blade whirring through the air and thudding into the dead center of the board. Eggsy’s face lights up. “Hey, I hit it!”

“Yes. It appears you did,” Harry says flatly, ignoring the way Eggsy’s face falls at his rather bland reception. “Go get it back.”

As Eggsy trudges off to retrieve it, Harry taps the side of his glasses thrice, bringing up the comm link. “You programmed him with weapons training.”

“Of course,” Merlin says. He can practically hear the amused smile radiating through the speakers. “But it could have been faulty. Those childproof locks were just… insurance.”

“Damn you, Merlin,” Harry hisses through gritted teeth.

He deactivates the feed when the magician starts laughing, Eggsy sauntering back up a moment later, apparently already recovered from his earlier brush-off. “What’s next?"

Harry just shakes his head. “Something tells me you don’t need any more practice. You’ll get your first mission tomorrow,” he says coolly, turning abruptly and heading for the door without looking back.

There’s a slight pause before he hears Eggsy’s footsteps behind him, not hurrying to catch up.

-

The actual mission part of their first mission goes off without a hitch, but that’s only to be expected given how easy it is. Harry grits his teeth when he finds out it’s only reconnaissance.

“Thought I’d left these bloody things behind,” he grumbles, stationing himself and Eggsy in a position close enough to their target to keep an eye on him without raising suspicion. “Look alert,” he mutters and Eggsy instantly straightens, eyes going slightly unfocused for a brief second as he sets up a feed. “Are you getting this, Merlin?” He talks into his drink, lips barely moving.

“Loud and clear,” Merlin confirms. “And lighten up, you’re at a party. Enjoy yourself.”

Harry just rolls his eyes, keeping one ear on the conversation Richard Alistair, thirty-second wealthiest man in Britain, is having with two young ladies hanging on his every word.

The soft strains of classical music surround him, everything lit in a soft golden glow, jewelry flashing at the throat of every woman, rings on the finger of every man. Harry runs his thumb absently over the signet ring on his own, careful not to activate it. The constant chatter is accented with the clink of champagne glasses and the occasional burst of polite laughter at some joke or other that wasn’t actually funny. In other words, it is all painfully dull.

“Are you mad at me?” Eggsy asks, breaking into his thoughts.

Harry cuts his eyes over at him, lowering his voice even though nobody seems to be within earshot. “You’re supposed to be recording, Eggsy.”

“I am,” Eggsy protests. “I can do more than one thing at a time, Harry.”

His only response to that is a small hum and the raising of his champagne glass to his lips once more. It tastes terrible, but it’s alcohol and he’ll take it.

Eggsy’s hand lands on his shoulder, pulling at him until he actually turns to look. “You didn’t answer my question. Have I done somethin’ wrong?”

“No, Eggsy, you haven’t done anything wrong,” Harry sighs.

“Then what the fuck is up with you?” Eggsy demands, a slight edge of something that would be anger ( _if he was human, but he isn’t human, he can’t feel anything_ ) in his voice.

Harry shrugs off his hand, turning so he can focus back on the mark who’s still pretending he’s witty while the two young ladies indulge him, fluttering their eyelashes ridiculously. Harry’s lip curls upwards into a bit of a sneer just watching it. “Nothing’s up with me,” he mutters.

Eggsy huffs, stomping around to stand in front of him, blocking his view. His arms are folded over his chest and one eyebrow is raised skeptically. “You’ve been ignorin’ me every chance you get, blowin’ me off when you can’t do that, and I ain’t had anythin’ to eat in three days when I distinctly remember you promisin’ to buy me turkey.”

Lips pressed into a thin, white line, Harry finally looks down at him, eyes cold. “You don’t need to eat.”

“Yeah, I know I don’t _need_ to, but I thought-“

“Thought what? That if you pretended hard enough you would be human? That if you acted like you needed to breathe, or eat, or sleep you would somehow start having to? Face it, Eggsy, you are what you are and that’s not changing anytime soon. You’re only an android,” he snaps.

Eggsy takes half a step back, stunned, and if Harry didn’t know better he’d say he looked genuinely hurt. “Right,” he says quietly after a moment, hunching his shoulders and turning so he doesn’t have to face Harry directly anymore.

Harry tilts his head back, draining the rest of his champagne in one go. Eggsy doesn’t notice.

-

Things at the house are different after that. If Harry had thought he’d hated living there before it was only because he’d had no standard of comparison. This is much, much worse. He discovers that he actually misses the presence Eggsy had brought in, hadn’t realized how much had changed until it was suddenly missing.

He sits at the table in the morning, eyes flicking through the newspaper. He’s halfway through telling Eggsy some interesting tidbit or another when he glances up to find there isn’t anybody sitting there. He automatically sections off a small portion of his meals, but ends up eating them himself when Eggsy doesn’t show up.

Somehow, the android does everything he did before without ever bumping into Harry. Rooms are magically cleaned, dishes are magically washed, laundry is magically done. Occasionally, of course, they run into each other (the house is only so large) but Eggsy just averts his eyes, mutters an apology, and slinks off before Harry has the chance to say anything.

Not that he has much to say. There’s an apology always on the tip of his tongue, but something holds it back. He wants to chalk it up to the threat of Merlin finding out he’s sorry for what he said, but he doesn’t know if that’s quite it. Whatever it is, the words remain unsaid and things remain awkward.

They’re still sent out on missions, but those don’t require much beyond perfunctory and professional communications. Those, at least, Harry can handle. He’s used to slipping into a different state of mind when he’s Galahad, becoming all business. It’s easier to talk to Eggsy that way, when he doesn’t have to think about the more personal connection he’s blasted to hell.

-

**_Field Report #4_ **

_Submission by Agent Galahad_

_00-01296_

_Recipients: Merlin & Delilah Moore_

_Subject: The UNWIN_

_The 17 th of November, 2015_

_Subject has given an entirely satisfactory performance on every mission it has thus far attended. Every recording has been perfect and it has, multiple times, assisted in the physical side of things as well, handling weapons with astounding accuracy and showing a marked proficiency in close combat._

_There could be a problem with the adfectus cluster, however. It has been difficult to discern, as the agent and the subject have been rather separated when it comes to personal matters of late, but there does not appear to have been any growth. It is likely that there has been no decline either. There does not appear to be cause for concern at this point._

_Signed,_

_Galahad_

-

“In consideration of your last report we’ve decided to keep the UNWIN here for the next few days to have a thorough evaluation. We’ll notify you when it’s ready to come back,” Delilah informs him as Eggsy is ushered into the facility.

For once, it seems, Merlin has nothing pressing to say to him, so he has no need to rush off as he usually does. He shifts uncomfortably, wanting to speak, but hesitating.

His discomfort doesn’t escape Delilah’s notice and she tilts her head to one side. “Something on your mind, Galahad?”

“The UNWIN, he-,” at her sharp look he pauses, “ _it_ only hypothesizes and imitates emotions, correct? It can’t feel anything.”

Delilah’s eyes narrow. “It’s rather a bit more complicated than that, but essentially yes, that’s correct. It can’t generate its own emotions and it can’t imitate something it hasn’t observed, but it does have the capacity to form logical pathways between them.” Harry must look a little lost because she continues. “It can recognize that it should be feeling upset and act accordingly, essentially,” she says, her voice a bit softer than it was before. She places a comforting hand on his arm and squeezes slightly. “Don’t worry about the way its been acting, Galahad. It doesn’t actually mean what its doing.”

Harry might not entirely believe her, but he just gives her a tight nod. “I see. I’ll be waiting for that notification.”

He returns to the house, used to the empty feeling again. With a sigh, he sinks onto the sofa, eying the unopened bottle of brandy sitting on the side table. He stretches a hand out for it, retracts it briefly, and then gives in, pouring himself a glass.

The bottle is nearly empty by the time he passes out.

Harry wakes to the feeling of something soft settling around his shoulders and he reluctantly peels his eyes open, squinting in the dim light emanating from the lamp. When his eyes focus he finds Eggsy tucking a blanket around his chin. “Eggsy?” he slurs, voice harsh and rough from disuse. His mouth tastes terrible, and he can’t quite make sense of what’s going on around him. “You’re supposed to be at the… the place, the thing. Natility.” He squeezes his eyes shut, shakes his head once. “Facility.” He blinks back up at Eggsy, trying get everything to stop swimming.

Eggsy shrugs, hands resting lightly on Harry’s shoulders. He seems to realize that suddenly and jerks them away, letting them fall back to his sides. “Didn’t feel like stayin’. They did most of their dumb evaluation anyways, so I snuck out. Anyway, sorry about wakin’ you up. I didn’t mean to.” He starts to walk off, shoulders hunched in the now-familiar posture.

Harry’s hand flashes out, circling around Eggsy’s wrist and bringing him to a stop. “Wait, don’t go. I don’t want…” He trails off, brow furrowing as he searches for the words. “Don’t want you to spend the night outside. I’m not telling you to spend the night outside again.”

For the first time in the past few weeks, Eggsy lets out a genuine smile. “I know, Harry. I’m not goin’ outside, promise.”

“Good.” Harry’s hold loosens before dropping away completely, his hand falling to the carpet and his eyes closing again, already slipping back into sleep.

When he wakes up his head is pounding and his mouth feels like it’s filled with sand. Groaning softly, he forces one eye open, blearily blinking at the small table near the side of the sofa which has a glass of water resting on it along with two aspirin. Harry sits up, waits for the room to stop doing somersaults, and manages to swallow down the two pills, chasing them with water.

Smells emanate from the kitchen and he can hear the faint clinking of metal, the whistle of a kettle coming to boil.

Using the edge of the sofa to pull himself to his feet, Harry shuffles into the kitchen, the blanket slipping off onto the floor somewhere along the way. “What are you doing?” he rasps when he sees Eggsy at the stove, very focused on whatever’s in the pan. It looks suspiciously like eggs, but he knows for a fact that he doesn’t have any eggs.

Eggsy glances up, startled by his appearance. “Oh, uh, I just thought I’d make you breakfast. You didn’t really seem like you were up to it, an’ all.”

“I’m supposed to be looking after you, not the other way around,” Harry mutters, slipping into a chair before he falls into it.

Snorting, Eggsy works on scrambling the (definitely) eggs. “I don’t really need to be looked after, you know. ‘M fine on my own. I went shoppin’ this mornin’ and everythin’.”

That explained the sudden presence of the eggs. “By yourself?” Harry asks, even though the answer is pretty clear.

“By myself,” Eggsy affirms. “An’ I didn’t fuck anythin’ up, before you ask. There’s no panic in the streets, people spoutin’ off about the robot invasion.” There’s a bitter edge to his voice, but Harry can’t really blame him for that.

He sighs heavily, and rests his head wearily in one hand. “Eggsy, I’m-“

But Eggsy cuts him off. “Don’t. It was my fault anyway. Shouldn’t have thought… Never mind.” He makes up a plate and places it before Harry, flicking off the stove and turning to leave.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Harry protests, still not quite thinking clearly. He gets that Eggsy’s upset, he knows it has something to do with him, but he can’t _quite_ remember what it is he’s done. “I shouldn’t have said what I said.” Whatever that was.

Eggsy’s stopped now, drawn in on himself a little. He turns back to face Harry, gnawing on his bottom lip and wrapping his arms around his middle. “The worst part wasn’t even you sayin’ it,” he finally admits, looking at the floor instead of him. “It was that you were right. I thought maybe if I spent enough time pretendin’ I was human I could… I dunno, really. Not be one exactly, just be more like one.” He shakes his head. “Stupid.”

Ah, right, now Harry remembers. His little rant about how Eggsy was ‘only an android.’ “That wasn’t fair of me to say,” he sighs, losing what little appetite he’d had. “And it wasn’t fair of me to act the way I did either.” Merlin might have wanted him to distance himself, but Merlin wasn’t the one who had to live with him. It was so easy to forget that Eggsy was something different, other, a combination of wires and circuits instead of flesh and bone. Especially when he was standing there in a set of Harry’s pyjamas (how long had he been wearing those?), digging his big toe dejectedly into the carpet.

“Eggsy,” he says, half-standing up from his chair without consciously deciding to.

Eggsy blinks up at him, brow furrowing as Harry gets up and walks towards him.

Merlin and Delilah can watch the monitors all they like Harry decides. They can spend hours poring over the firing of this sensor or that sensor, analyzing the activation of cluster A and cluster B, but they haven’t seen what he’s seen and they won’t see it through their damn statistics. The way Eggsy’s eyes shine a little bit brighter whenever he sees a child, the almost reverent way he smoothes his hand over an animal’s head as if he can’t quite believe it exists, the way he beams proudly over at Harry whenever he’s done something just right. Damn the fucking statistics.

He stops in front of Eggsy, gaze locking onto his and wonders how he ever thought those eyes could be soulless. His hand reaches up to cup Eggsy’s cheek, thumb brushing over his cheekbone lightly.

Eggsy leans into his touch, eyes looking back into his searchingly. His hand comes up to curl around Harry’s tie as the man hadn’t bothered to change into anything before passing out on the sofa. “Kiss me, Harry,” he breathes.

And Harry does.

Five minutes later there’s a beep from his glasses.

Harry groans. “I guess I was expecting that,” he mumbles, lips brushing against Eggsy’s with every word.

Eggsy chuckles, brushing his fingers one last time through the short hairs at the nape of Harry’s neck. “Go on, then. I’ve got dishes to do anyways.”

Reluctantly pulling himself away, Harry activates the feed. “Yes, Merlin?”

“Get to a place where it can’t hear you,” Merlin orders, sounding more concerned than disapproving.

Harry’s eyebrows draw together, but he does as he’s asked. He’s worked with the man for too long to question him before acting. He heads upstairs to his study, closing the door behind him. “Would you mind telling me what’s going on?”

“The UNWIN has been compromised.”

The blood freezes in Harry’s veins. “Merlin, what the hell are you talking about?” he snaps.

There’s a static-y sigh over the lines and when Merlin speaks next his voice sounds strained. “Somehow someone hacked into its core processor. We have reason to believe whoever it is now has complete control over the software. In other words, it’s now become our greatest threat. Should they decide to use it against us they will have a highly effective weapon and it’s in our best interests to assume they’re hostile,” he explains.

Harry’s trying to make sense of the words, but none of them seem to have any meaning. “What are you saying?”

“We need you to deactivate Eggsy.”

The words stop his heart.

“Harry?” Merlin asks after a long stretch of silence.

“There hasn’t been any sign of trouble, Merlin. Surely that’s a little extreme. You would lose everything we’ve been working for,” he says, each word an effort.

Another sigh. “Trust me, Harry, I’m aware. I wouldn’t be asking you to do this unless we had absolutely no other choice. But I can’t put this entire organization in danger because of a project. You remember the deactivation code?”

“Oxfords, not brogues,” Harry recites automatically, mouth working on autopilot. There’s too much going on in his head for him to focus on any one thing.

“Yes, that’s correct. And Harry?” Merlin pauses, waiting to make sure he’s actually going to get a response.

Harry forces himself to pay attention. “Yes?”

“The longer we wait the more chances something will happen. Do you understand?”

Swallowing down the lump in his throat seems impossible, but somehow Harry manages to say, “I understand.”

The line goes dead.

-

“And you’re sure he doesn’t suspect anything?” Delilah presses, watching the video playback of Harry leaning in towards Eggsy, the android’s eyes closing the millisecond before their lips meet.

Merlin closes his eyes and breathes out deeply through his nose, fighting to keep his composure. “Yes, I’m sure. I can be pretty convincing when I want to be, you know.”

She shoots him a tight smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes and it drops away immediately when she looks back at the screen. “All that work wasted and for what? Nothing more than an old man who can’t control himself,” she grits out through her teeth.

“That ‘old man’ is one of our top agents,” Merlin points out. “He’s stopped things from going to shit more times than I care to remember; it would be fitting to have a little more respect for him.”

“I would have had a little more respect for him if he’d kept his hands off our android,” Delilah says, but she sounds more resigned than anything else. “It’s ruined now. Did you see the percentages?” She knows very well he saw the percentages, but she’s still upset enough to press.

Merlin nods, pulling them up on his clipboard. “Adfectus cluster, 73%,” he mutters.

Delilah’s lip curls slightly. “Seventy-fucking-three percent! Useless, absolutely useless. We might as well just send a human to do the job at this point.” She shoves herself away from the desk and strides towards the door. “I certainly hope you’re planning on picking a more suitable candidate to observe it one we’ve wiped it and restarted,” she says, hand already on the door handle.

“I’ll find someone,” he assures her, focusing the better part of his attention on the screen which has started looping back the morning’s footage again.

With a small tut of discontent, Delilah yanks open the door, striding purposefully out of the room.

Merlin pauses the video just as Harry’s lurching up from the table, an expression Merlin’s never seen before on his face. He sighs and drops his head into his hands, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. “I’m sorry, Harry, I truly am.”

-

It takes Harry nearly an hour to gain enough composure to venture out of his office. He doesn’t want to look at Eggsy, doesn’t want to think about how there’s something hiding in him now, lethal, waiting for its moment to strike. He doesn’t want to believe it, but he can’t afford not to. He can’t let Kingsman fall.

Eggsy’s just wiping the pan dry when Harry comes back downstairs into the kitchen.

“Took you this long to clean up, did it?” he asks, forcing himself to sound as natural as possible. It isn’t easy, but years of practice mean its at least convincing. “You’re losing your touch.”

Chuckling, Eggsy slides the pan into its proper place, hanging the dish towel up to dry. “Nah, I just kept gettin’ distracted. I was too busy thinkin’ about somethin’ other than the dishes,” he smirks, winking.

It takes everything Harry has to keep himself from breaking into a million pieces right then and there. The smile he forces doesn’t reach his eyes. “Tell me, Eggsy. Why do you want to be human, anyway? We have so many flaws, it hardly seems to be something to strive for.”

Eggsy thinks about that for a minute, drifting a few steps closer before he stops and leans against the counter, contemplating. “I think it’s cause of what gives you those flaws,” he finally says. “I mean, think how many people have fucked somethin’ up just cause they _felt_ so strongly. Can’t even imagine what that’s like, to feel somethin’ so much you just gotta do somethin’ about it even if you know it’s wrong. You ever felt that way?” he asks, turning his curious eyes on him.

“No. I can’t say that I have.”

Shrugging, Eggsy pushes off the counter, slipping his arms around Harry’s waist and reaching up on his toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “Maybe you will someday.”

Harry can’t speak. If he tries it’s all going to come spilling out and then everything will be over. So he does the only thing he can think of, grabs Eggsy’s chin in his fingers, tilts it back so he can see his face, and kisses him like he’s never kissed anyone before. He pours the apology he can’t say into it, tries to tell him he’s sorry through the arms that pull Eggsy closer, the hands that smooth over his back. And Eggsy just makes it worse by melting into him with a small hum of contentment.

In this moment he certainly doesn’t seem like he could single-handedly ruin one of the oldest secret services in existence, but appearances were created to be deceiving and none of them can take the chance.

Eggsy pulls back first, looking a bit startled. His hand flies to his own cheek, finger brushing over a small spot of wetness. He glances up at Harry and his gaze softens. Gingerly, he raises his hand as if he’s going to brush away the tears still forming in the corners of Harry’s eyes. “You’re sad. Why are you sad?” There’s a hint of the old Eggsy there, the awed wonder that he’d had when he was first discovering everything.

Harry forces himself to look at Eggsy. “Oxfords,” he says, throat tightening around the word as if it doesn’t want it to escape. “Not brogues.”

There’s just enough time for Eggsy to realize what’s happening, for a fleeting look of panic to cross his face, for a “Harry,” to fall broken from his lips. Then his whole body shudders and his eyes close. Stock-still.

With a shaking hand, Harry activates his comm link. “Merlin? He’s… It’s deactivated.”

“Well done, Galahad.”

-

It’s only two months later when Merlin calls Harry back to the facility. He’d rather hoped never to see the place again, and the magician assures him that he wouldn’t have had to if they didn’t want to make absolutely certain that all trace of the old UNWIN was gone. If the android recognized him it would indicate that some of his old, corrupted software could have been overlooked and it would be back to wiping and replacing everything.

With no more enthusiasm than he’d had the first time he visited the place, Harry walks up to the door where Delilah is waiting, that same bright smile still there.

“Galahad! Let’s hope this is the last we have to see of you, yes?” She winks and, turning, leads him into the maze of corridors.

Harry could swear he gets heavier with every step he takes, feet trudging through lead. Eventually, they make it to the security barrier and are stepping through, back into the inner workings of the lab. Instantly, Harry’s eyes turn towards the cubicle.

“Activate the android,” Delilah orders. She places a hand on his arm to get his attention, tilting her head in the direction of the glass enclosure. “Come on, then.”

The android sits up just as they’re entering the room and Harry sucks in a breath through his teeth. They’ve done nothing to the exterior and it still looks exactly like Eggsy. He can see those lips edging up into a cheeky smile, those hands settling on his shoulders, those eyes… No. There’s something different about them. They’re back to the eerily lifeless pits he’d first seen.

“Good morning, Delilah,” it says, and there’s no trace of the accent Harry had become rather fond of.

Delilah smiles brightly at it. “Good morning, Gary. I’ve brought you a visitor. I want you to tell me if you’ve seen him before or not.” She steps to one side, nodding over at Harry.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Harry forces himself not to flinch as the android swings its head to look over at him. Its eyes narrow momentarily before it gives a slow shake of its head.

“No,” it says. “No, I’ve never seen him before in my life.”


End file.
